


Loom so large

by the_jinxed_one



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: AU, Alex is an idiot, Business AU, Caught red handed, Lafayette is dramatic, M/M, Masturbation, The Coat - Freeform, fantasies, someone help these boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 01:38:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16052765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_jinxed_one/pseuds/the_jinxed_one
Summary: In which Alex can't be bothered to see to his own needs, rushes to the aide of one sick friend and is then caught seeing to a far less pressing need.





	Loom so large

It wasn’t supposed to snow today. It was barely November. Alex cursed as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the rough fabric scrapping roughly against the chilled, red skin of his hands. He should have taken Lafayette’s advice about grabbing a coat. Instead, he had stubbornly insisted that the light knit sweater he had pulled over his head would be plenty. Stupid, he repeated to himself as he strode quickly through the streets.

Just a few more blocks and he’d reach his destination. He was meeting Mister Washington in the park before walking over to yet another interview for some prestigious magazine. He ought to be familiar with the fame surrounding his superior, but he was still in awe at every request for an intimate look at George Washington that crossed his path. He did his best to filter them through, working to schedule them at the least inconvenient times so as to avoid overwhelming the older man.

Alexander had been George’s personal assistant for nearly three years now and while he received praise for his ability to keep the peace and arrange things perfectly, it wasn’t without diligence and more than a little stress. Washington was so much more than a mogul; he was a cut above the rest. He had finger in just about every pie imaginable and his influence was infinite. Being able to balance out the events of Washington’s life while simultaneously anticipating his needs took up nearly every minute of Alexander’s life. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

After all, how many people got to devote their life to pleasing both their idol and the person they had fallen in love with?

It had been infatuation at first sight. He had applied for the position on a whim after hearing about it from his former employer, Nathaniel Green. While working with Green had been a perfectly adequate experience, he had never felt his skills were put to good use. He had been nothing more than a glorified secretary. He didn’t expect much better under Washington. Hell, he didn’t even expect to get offered the position. No one in their right mind would have hired him. He had little to no real experience, having only just graduated and immediately interning with Green and Knox.

His application was accepted. He somehow made it through a few preliminary interviews. He had half expected to be laughed out the door before the first ended. Instead, he made it to the final round. He was picking at his nails while waiting next to Aaron Burr, a friend and rival since their early days of college, who radiated confidence. If he were a lesser man, he would have grabbed his bag and shrunk out of the posh waiting room. Instead, he focused on the leather under his ass and the way the room smelled like coffee and expensive taste.

Burr was directed in first. Alex heaved a sigh. He tipped his head back against the wall and thought long and hard about how best to follow up someone as prepared and suave as Aaron. They were such opposing characters. At the very least, that would set them apart. He let his mind wander to his plans for dinner and the finishing touches on a project for Green when Burr exited the room, looking unsure and perhaps shaken. Alex was immediately taken aback. He had never truly seen Burr look so uneasy. An acrid taste rose in his mouth.

“You’re next, I guess.” Burr said giving him a small, tight lipped smile that wasn’t at all reassuring. “Hey, Hamilton?”

He looked at him with a quirked brow.

“Good luck.”

I’ll need it, he thought to himself. He steeled himself as best as he was able. He tugged on the corners of his jacket and stood as straight as he could. Walk tall, Mulligan had told him, makes you look like you won’t take any shit. Not to mention the added illusion of height. He approached with care and feigned confidence. He knocked on the door twice and waited. The resounding “come in” was deep and warm and he should have known then he was fucked.

Cut to three years later, and he was wondering why it was that he couldn’t ever seem to just listen when someone gave him advice because his whole body was shaking and his shoulders were up to his ears in an attempt to keep warm. He spotted the dark silhouette of his boss by a bench, clearly on a phone call and looking as dashing as ever.

Alex almost stopped in his tracks. Even after all this time, seeing those broad shoulders and the long lines of his body, he was swept away into fantasy. He ought to know better. He had kept a polite distance at first, letting himself believe his feelings were just admiration. But George Washington wasn’t the type of man you just admire. Washington was the absolute ideal. He was the kind of person you fall in love with and then spend the rest of your life trying to get over. Alex believe himself to be in the process of moving on to phase two: accept that there is nothing there and move on.

“Ah, Hamilton,” George said fondly, pulling away from his phone for a moment.

“Sir,” Alex greeted back, watching his breathe in front of him and suppressing another set of shivers.

“You’re under dressed.” George’s brow had begun to furrow.

Without need, Alex looked down at his attire. Indeed. What an astute observation. He looked up at George and shrugged. “Figured the walk would warm me up.”

There was a moment where it looked like George was going to say something and Alex let himself wonder what exactly it was. He looked exasperated. He ought to be used to Alex’s poor attempts at self-care and yet he always seemed genuinely perturbed by it. Before he could say anything, George was shrugging off his own coat and urging it towards him.  
Alex stared at the proffered dark cool. It looked warm but instead of reaching out and simply thanking the older man for what most would consider a gentlemanly act, Alex removed his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Are you out of your mind? I’m not wearing that.” He insisted.

“And why not?” George asked mildly. This he was used to.

“Well for one thing, it’s hardly going to fit me. I’ll look ridiculous. And for another, I’m not going to take your coat and leave you to freeze to death. You’re my boss!”

“So, you admit that it is cold?”

“No! That’s not the point.”

“Well, since you don’t think it’s cold then I won’t be in need of a coat any more than you.”

Alex flushed and puffed his cheeks up. “Put the damn coat on, you stubborn oaf! We’re going to be late for the interview.”

“We will leave for the interview when you put the coat on,” George insisted.

Being that he was cold and irritated and perhaps more than a little sleep deprived, he stepped forward and glared up at the man before him. “You can’t make me.” He tried to sound biting but only succeeded in sounding petulant.

“Is that a challenge?” George had stepped into his space and looked down at him, using all of his height to surround Alexander. There was something in his voice, his eyes, that made Alex back down. There was something there that said, if you keep pushing your limits you’ll see exactly what I can do.

Alex licked his lips and looked down. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore and his cheeks burned in more ways than one. He was about to step back when he felt heavy fabric rest on his shoulders. He looked at the dark wool on his shoulder and the dark hand clamping it there. He looked up to see Washington with a smug smirk. He opened his mouth to protest and the hands on his shoulders squeezed firmly. He promptly closed his mouth and tried not to glower.

“Right. That’s what I thought.” George said with a smile. “Now, shall we go?”

“Yes, sir.”

He received a warm look and a hand on his back urging him forward before George went back to his phone call. He swore. Not only had he ended up with his boss’ coat, he had interrupted a phone call and whoever was on the other line had no doubt heard their argument. Not the first time that had happened. Definitely wouldn’t be the last. Alex was hardly one to keep his mouth shut, even when it came to his boss. Luckily for him, George had a high tolerance for Hamilton’s brash behavior and outlandish tongue.

He walked silently beside Washington, distracted by the warmth around him and the overwhelming scent surrounding him. Of course, he probably looked ridiculous. While George had filled out the heavy jacket in a heavenly way, Alex was nearly drowning in it. He couldn’t even be bothered to be embarrassed. It was still warm and the flush on his cheeks now had nothing to do with the cool air. He looked over at Washington, who seemed completely unfazed by the chill in the air or the biting breeze or the small flurries landing around them. Ever the commanding figure, Alexander thought in awe.

The interview went quickly. Alex watched George charm yet another reporter, smiling and waving his hand in that dismissive manner and laughing politely. Unfortunately, as per usual, this particular reporter was female and flirting and damn if she wasn’t attractive. Alex tucked himself in the corner, burrowed deep into the heavy confines of Washington’s coat and tried not to glare as he sent emails and filtered through memo after memo. He looked up just in time to see the woman brush her hair behind her ear and touch George’s arm. He scoffed softly to himself. At least, he thought he had. George met his eyes over the woman’s head.

Despite being incredibly embarrassed at releasing the sound loud enough for Washington to hear, he raised his eyebrows in question as though he couldn’t imagine what George was trying to communicate. He raised the phone in his hand as an excuse. George gave him a speaking glance before returning his attention to the woman. Alexander rolled his eyes and sincerely hoped that George hadn’t seen it. He’d get a solid nagging for his disreputable behavior.

He was in the process of sending a barely concealed hate filled email back to Jefferson when his phone began to ring. He apologized softly and shuffled out of the room. A panicked John calling about Lafayette being sick and him not being able to handle it. Hercules was out of town on important business and John never could handle Gilbert when he was sick. Trust the french man to be overly dramatic even when he was physically incapable of doing anything for himself.

“He was fine when I left,” Alex insisted, his head beginning to pound with frustration.

“Okay, well, he’s not fine now. He’s throwing up and whining and he’s hot and cold and I can’t handle this. You know how I get around vomit…”

Oh, he knew. John, bless his tender heart, had something of an overdeveloped gag reflex. Alex had learned that early into their friendship after a few too many drinks. He learned the hard way that John was not to be left in charge when it came to watching someone who couldn’t hold the contents of their stomach. The mess simply doubled.

He heard retching and then John gag. “I ca-can’t do this, Alex. I have to go.” Another gag. “You have to come ho-home.”

Alex sighed and brushed a hand over his face in frustration. He sent George a quick text about the situation and rushed off to his apartment. Poor Gilbert was probably already mentally writing a touching eulogy for his own funeral. It would be a splendid and extravagant event. Alex had already promised to invite all of his lovers, past, present, and future, the last time he was sick. He was also told that it was meant to be the party of the century. “How you say… put the fun in funeral, yes?”

When he got home, he removed the coat without a thought and called out for whoever was home.He found one washed out and still impossibly pretty Lafayette laying on the bathroom floor wrapped in a bunch of towels. He looked up at him with unfocused eyes and flung himself onto the floor. He mumbled curses and told Alex to leave him to his demise, begged him not to look at him in such a state. Nothing unusual there. Alex removed his own hair tie and used it to pull the curls away from his friends face.

“You look like shit and you’re still prettier than me,” he said before heaving his friend up.

“You’re just saying that.”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

“You once said you didn’t want to make love with me,” he said, his accent thicker than usual.

“And that’s a lie because?” Alex asked as he laid Lafayette down in his bed.

“Ev’ry one wants a piece of me, Mon cher.”

Alex chuckled and tucked him under the blankets. He grabbed bucket from under the sink and sat it next to Gil’s bed. He then wiped his forehead and forced him to down some fluids. When he was sure that his friend was not only hydrated but asleep, he made his way to the living room. He flopped on the couch and stretched out. He head was nestled on top of the wool jacket. He swore loudly.

Of course he had run off with Washington’s jacket. Of course, he was that stupid. He mentally berated himself and tried to assure himself that it was okay. A simple mistake and if you’re boss gets pneumonia and dies it will be all your fault. Great. He pressed his face into the fabric and groaned.

As annoyed as he was with himself for running off with the article… it smelled like Washington and damn if that wasn’t his favorite scent. He bit his lip and considered the repercussions of what he was about to do. No one would know. Gil was asleep, John wasn’t coming back anytime soon, Herc was gone. He was alone…

He pressed his nose into the fabric and inhaled deeply. His hand found his dick through his jeans and palmed it. He closed his eyes and imagined what it would be like to press up against Washington and feel the heat that had made the coat so warm earlier. He knew this scent so well. He knew what George’s hands felt like. He had held felt it wrapped around his own hand when they first met. He could still recall the way it felt, solid and warm with a few callouses.

He imagined it was another’s hand on him now. He shuddered out a low sound that wasn’t quite a moan just yet. He twisted a hand under his shirt and let it grope and wander over his flesh. Maybe… maybe Washington wasn’t a tender lover? What if that heat that Alex felt directed at him sometimes was just a taste of he could do? The thought had him grinding into his palm roughly.

He knew George could give him exactly what he needed. He could take and take and Alexander would be left a boneless, happy mess. He wondered what made him tick? He knew that he had a soft spot for being called “Sir” and that he often bristled when Alex jokingly called him “General”. He worked his pants down to his knees and focused.

He imagined being bent over and being teased, large hands roaming over his body. He fantasized about the firm, unyielding touch. He thought about those hands he admired so much grabbing his hips roughly and canting them upwards and that sinful mouth whispering lewd things into his skin. He thought about exactly how he would get what he wanted.

“Sir,” he whined helplessly.

His hips were raised now, his face pressed into the itchy fabric of the coat while his hands busied themselves. His eyes were screwed shut and he rutted into his hand while the other teasingly trailed over his puckered hole. He felt a new rush of neediness wash over him. He whined high in throat.

George always got a little light in his eye when Alexander called him Sir. It may be why Alex insisted on it. It was always Mr. Washington or Sir. Very rarely did he allow himself to call him George. How could he when it so obviously pleased him? He knew it wasn’t just the word itself. George was often called Sir. There was only acknowledgement. But when Alex uttered the word, George was all rapt attention and had eyes for none but him.

“Please, sir,” he begged, mouth open and panting against the fabric under him.

“Alexander?”

Alex’s eyes shot open. He was immediately aware that he was no longer alone. He was also very aware that his boss had used the key that he had been given in case of an emergency. Why had he done that? Who gives their boss a key? He sat back on his knees and panicked. His pants were stuck around his knees and his erection was standing proud between his thighs. He heard the footsteps coming from the front door into the living room. The hall was short and Washington had long legs. He didn’t have time. He grabbed the first thing he could find and held it up in front of his chest, allowing it to conceal his throbbing erection.

“Mr. Washington, you’re in my home...why are you in my home?” he asked with a flush when George rounded the corner and looked at him.

Oh, god. He could tell. Alex knew he could tell. Everyone had told him that he had a very distinct sexed up look. He didn’t even know what that meant except that he had never once been able to hide if he masturbated or got laid. Everyone knew immediately. He flushed deeper and stared at his boss’ tie because if he looked at his face right now he would die of shame.

Please, let the floor open up and swallow me whole. If there is a god, let me die now.

“You have my coat,” George said as though he hadn’t just walked in on his assistant jerking off on the couch.

“Uh huh. I do. I forgot I had it on and then I had to rush off. Terribly sorry. Uhm…”

“You have my coat in your hand right now,” 

“Yeah… yes, I do.” He cleared his throat. “Sir, if you wouldn’t mind turning around for a moment?” His voice cracked.

Instead of turning around, George moved into the armchair next to the couch and Alex nearly sobbed. This was not happening. He sat with legs wide and Alex couldn’t really help it if his eyes immediately went to his zipper. He tried not to stare. He really did but he was still hard under the coat and the man he had just been fantasizing about was sitting in front of him like he had no problem whatsoever.

“You’re awfully red. Perhaps you’ve caught what your friend has?” He sounded so unaffected.

Alex still couldn’t bring himself to look at George’s face. He fixed his eyes on the fabric covering his body and shook his head firmly. God, this was mortifying. The worst part was that he was still so hard. He wriggled a little and a small sound made its way up his throat.

“Alexander,” there was something low in his voice that made Alex’s heart beat faster. “Is there a particular reason you still have my coat?”

In a stupidly defensive movement he looked at George’s face and his cheeks burned redder than ever. He was too embarrassed to focus on the heat or the hunger in the eyes pinning him down. He spluttered.

“Sir, it’s really not what you think!” He said as he hugged the fabric closer to his chest for some sense of comfort, any layer to keep himself safe.

“Oh? Because I think you were pleasuring yourself with my clothing. Am I wrong?”

“Yes! I was not pleasuring myself with your clothing. I was jerking off and your coat just happened to be there?” his voice wavered. For all his skill at deflecting and arguing in his daily life, he sure as hell was failing here.

“Alexander,” George stood and Alex’s stomach dropped. He took a step towards the younger man. He loomed. His height even more intimidating while Alex knelt on the couch before him, barely covered, looking up at him with wide eyes. He swallowed thickly. “It’s better for you if you don’t lie to me.”

There was a finger under his chin tipping his head up and he uttered a soft oh. It progressed very quickly after that. There was a hand in his hair and he was so grateful he had let it down. He moaned and closed his eyes. His fingers tightened in the fabric of the coat. He needed an anchor. This wasn’t actually happening. This was just another dream.

He felt lips on his jaw and then teeth and oh, he had found the sensitive spot just behind Alex’s ear. He hummed happily and arched further into the touch. He had been right. George Washington was not a tender lover. He was ferocious.

“Drop the coat, Alexander.”

A simple command and one that he was more than happy to comply with. He opened his eyes and looked up and the impossibly large man above him. He let the fabric slide through his fingers. “Yes, Sir.”


End file.
